Five Times Claire Feels Lost
by fancyjules
Summary: ...and one time maybe she's found. Claire thinks that she is like the coffee, a little bit of herself spilling out at a time, leaving disappearing marks, until there is no more. One shot, AU, hints of Paire.


**Title:** Five Times Claire Feels Lost (and one time maybe she's found)  
**Author:** hazelnutcoffee12 (hazelnutcoffee on lj)  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 1594  
**Pairing/Character:** Claire, Peter/Claire  
**Summary:** Claire thinks that she is like the coffee, a little bit of herself spilling out at a time, leaving disappearing marks, until there is no more. One shot, AU.  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** AU, though not specifically mentioned. Up to _Unexpected_

_I guess it's not the way you always planned it. Looks like you're heading for a crash landing. That's just the way it looks, from where I'm standing…_

_-- From Where I'm Standing, Schuyler Fisk_

i.

"Oh, shit," Claire says as the book she is looking for at the top of the library's bookcase topples over and falls down on her head. She puts her hand to her scalp and feels warm liquid on her fingertips.

Zach's next to her in an instant. He cups her face gently, tilting her face this way and that as his warm brown eyes search for any afflictions. "Are you ok?" he asks, picking the book up and putting it on the table.

Claire pastes a fake smile on her face and blinks before stepping back from him firmly. She's drowning in Odessa, slipping slowly into the abyss, and not even Zach can save her. She thinks of her mother and of Jackie and of all the people who have suffered because of her and she can't even find the correct words to express how out of control she feels.

"I'm fine. I'm indestructible, remember?" Claire asks sharply and she flips open the book to the index. "Nothing can hurt me," she continues softly and it is the worst lie she has ever told.

ii.

Claire's favorite time of day is during the pale dusky morning glow when it is quite not dawn and is not quite night and there is no one else is awake.

She loves the crisp quiet that surrounds her. Claire relishes the moment she comes awake, the moment her mind begins forming cohesive thoughts, even before she opens her eyes. It is at this time of day that she does her best thinking, where she solves most of her problems. She maps out her day, plans pretend conversations in which she is witty and smart and respected. And when she is satisfied with the results, she stretches her limbs, takes a deep breath, and begins her day.

She cannot stretch today without waking Peter.

His legs are tangled with hers, his arm wrapped loosely around her waist. She feels his breath lightly on her neck and the hair that moves with every inhale and exhale tickles her. Claire makes quick work of slipping out of his grasp without disturbing him and goes into the bathroom to turn on the water for a shower.

Claire knows that when she emerges from the shower, Peter will be gone.

This arrangement is never discussed. It's not something that happens frequently but it's happened enough and Claire is no closer to an answer now than she was before it all began. She knows Peter's been confused since the defeat of Sylar, unsure where to go with his career, his power, his life. She knows he considers her comfortable and safe but a little part of her resents him a little more with each passing day.

All the conversations she plans in her head with Peter go unsaid, day after day.

Claire gets ready for class, selects a red knit dress and a pair of sensible pumps for her presentation today. Her accessories are minimal – small hoop earrings, no necklace – and she wears her blonde hair down and loose, the way Peter likes it. She knows he will not notice, not even when they sit across from each other at Isaac's tonight.

When she is completely ready, she changes the sheets on the bed.

iii.

Claire arrives at work early and listens to the chatter in the back room surrounding her without actually hearing any conversation. She cups her hands, catching water from the sink, the cool liquid soothing her sore throat as she sips it mindlessly, her blue eyes glazed over in exhaustion. Peter stops by halfway through her shift to deliver a homemade dinner from Isaac's and her coworker swoon over his dark eyes and crooked smile. Claire ignores them and eats with the gusto of a college student starving for a home meal.

She reminds herself for the millionth time – _you are not his girlfriend_.

Claire's father calls her on her break. She talks to him in a narrow alley and watches a man smoke a cigarette slowly, his hands shaking as he blows smoky breaths into the dark sky. He's at ease against the chain fence, the drags of the cigarette deep and practiced. Claire feels a stab of jealousy at the man's easy pleasure in smoking and wishes she could derive happiness from something so simple. She doesn't remember what she says to her father, knows it doesn't matter, and he ends the conversation as he always does _i love you claire bear_.

Claire simply hangs up.

Afterwards, Claire takes the subway home and clasps her hands a little too tightly because her eyes scan the ads that line the train car and only see claire bear in the print. She gets off at the wrong stop and doesn't realize until she's walked four blocks in the wrong direction and she is just so tired.

iv.

New York City swallows Claire whole, engulfing her in its frenetic pace, hiding her among the skyscrapers. She loves the anonymity it affords her, loves how she can travel from one side of the city to another through the jostling crowds and never see someone who knows her. She's a small town girl in a big city and she's never felt more at home.

She's quiet in her classes and shy among groups because her father has taught her that everyone lies but she still manages to get asked out on a date by a cute boy in her biology lab. He takes her to a movie she's already seen and buys popcorn with too much butter and his fingertips stain her t-shirt as he wraps an arm around her shoulder in a manner that makes her feel she is a possession and not a person.

The boy hails her a cab at the end of the night and tries unsuccessfully to kiss her goodnight. Claire hears herself wearily give the cabbie Peter's address as she sinks into the worn leather of the taxi. Claire enters Peter's apartment with a stolen copy of his key and it is silent except for the water running in the shower. She takes off her clothes slowly, letting them fall on the floor as she walks numbly towards the bathroom.

If Peter's surprised when she steps in next to him, he doesn't show it and as the warm water beats down on them, Claire sighs because it's not much but it's all she's got.

v.

The line at Starbucks is, predictably, the longest Claire has ever seen. She's late for class but can't work up the energy to be upset about this and she observes the other people in the line with her. It is mostly business men and women who keep to themselves but Claire finds a sweet couple holding hands as they wait for their orders and her mind makes up stories of their life together.

She waits for her drink, tapping her feet to a beat only she can hear. When her order is called, she picks it up and turns to leave. A man bumps into her and the dark liquid splashes onto her skin, leaving an angry red mark on her skin before it disappears as quickly as it appeared.

Claire thinks that she is like the coffee, a little bit of herself spilling out at a time, leaving disappearing marks, until there is no more.

vi.

Claire doesn't really know her roommate; they are strangers who happen to share an apartment in the city that never sleeps. She knows Michelle finds her strange and a bit pathetic and Claire cannot blame her – she has done nothing to prove her otherwise. Still, she accepts the big glass of red wine Michelle pours her one rainy Tuesday and they bond over stupid classes and even stupider boys. Claire can tell by the tone of Michelle's voice that she feels sorry for her, the hopeless romantic waiting for a fairy tale that won't come true. She doesn't bother to correct her roommate, that it's probably more like a case of hero worship with a side of lust.

Michelle leaves at 10 to meet some friends at a club and Claire is left with Peter's oversized shirt, running shorts, and the bottle of wine.

She is drunk when Peter knocks at midnight.

Claire lets him in without protest and wordlessly leads him to her bedroom. She thinks of all she wants to say to him, full of drunken resolve, but then Peter kisses her and his hands wander and Claire doesn't have very many problems anymore. Later, when Claire is sure that Peter is sleeping, she lets the wine whisper _I love you _into his ear.

She doesn't hold her breath anymore, waiting for him to wake up and say it back.

The next morning, Claire stares at her appearance in the mirror. She is appalled by how much weight she has lost, how the dark bags under her eyes look like bruises against her pale skin. She turns on the water and lingers in the shower, thoughts swimming in her head. Her drunken resolve has turned into sober determination and she knows that she needs to tell Peter they cannot continue this unless there are some changes made.

Peter is still there when she steps out into her bedroom in only a towel.

There are million things she wants to say, a million questions she wants to ask but she silently accepts the cup of coffee he extends to her and finds the comics in the newspaper at his feet.

It is a start.


End file.
